


Captive

by LostInTheWiind



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28167081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostInTheWiind/pseuds/LostInTheWiind
Summary: Bounty hunter turned quarry, Aspen Varlette, has been on the run ever since she got wrapped up in some bad business with the guild. Thus far, she's been lucky enough to evade capture, but no matter how talented you are, there aren't many who can remain hidden when a Mandalorian comes looking.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	1. The Hunter and the Hunted

With every tired, leg-aching step that Aspen took through the crowded footpaths of Mos Eisley, she kicked dust up into the air that subsequently clouded around her boots; the dry sand so thick that it sometimes obscured her feet altogether when mixed with the constant haze in the air left by the copious amount of foot traffic.

If it weren't for the bandana tied around her face, both for protection from the sand and for protection from prying eyes, Aspen was sure she would have breathed in enough dust to create her own miniature desert in her lungs. The barren, desert wasteland that covered every inch of the planet was just one of the many reasons why she despised Tatooine, but she didn't have much of a choice. For the time being, the planet solely occupied by criminals, smugglers, and rogues was the only place she felt even remotely safe.

It wasn't the fact that Aspen trusted her fellow convicts not to turn her in on a dime if given the opportunity, because they absolutely would, and probably for a lot less than the price on her head was worth. Aspen hadn't always been on the run, however; in fact, she used to be a bounty hunter herself—but that felt like a lifetime ago. Thanks to her previous career choice, she had learned a thing or two about thinking like a quarry, and thus, she knew what to do and what not to do when avoiding capture.

One of the many tricks she picked up was that if Mos Eisley was good for anything, it was finding somewhere to lay low without anyone asking questions. 

Weaving in between the many nameless faces in the street, Aspen headed somewhat in the direction of the small, unassuming backroom that she was currently staying in; the backroom she was, without a doubt, being grotesquely overcharged for. She never took a straight path to her desired destination—always making a few unnecessary turns and even doubling back a few times to make sure she wasn't being tailed—and she never visited the same establishment two days in a row.

After returning to the building in which she was staying, Aspen checked over her shoulder once more for good measure before slipping through the back door and into the relative darkness of the room where she had drawn all of the curtains.

Ripping the bandana from off of her face, she forced a few coughs to dislodge the dust coating her windpipe. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, which was a drastic change from the blinding, blistering sun that was always baring down on Tatooine, Aspen noticed that something was off. Despite the fact that she didn't have many personal belongings to begin with, she could tell that her room had been riffled through. 

The sheets on the cot on the floor were slightly wrinkled, her bag in the corner was left ever-so-slightly unzipped, and the blade she had left on the rotting wooden desk had been moved. It probably wouldn't have been noticeable to any normal citizen, but to Aspen's trained eye, the room practically screamed to her that there had been an intruder; and not just any intruder, either. The handiwork was a little too sloppy for any professional who was actually trying to hide their tracks, but it was also too subtle for a true amateur. Whoever had been snooping in her things was a professional who didn't care if they left some evidence behind; in fact, they probably did it on purpose so that Aspen would know she was being tracked. It was a warning sign, a heads-up that her time was limited. 

This was the work of a confident bounty hunter. 

Aspen just shrugged it off. This wasn't the first time she'd run into an overly-cocky bounty hunter looking to make a name for themself by taking out a former member of the guild, and quite frankly, she doubted it would be the last.

Pulling back the black-out curtain a fraction of an inch, she double-checked to make sure no one had followed her back before locking the door and settling in for the night. Despite the fact that she remained unconcerned about her unwelcomed visitor, she knew it was probably time to find a new planet to occupy for a little while. So, in the morning, she would take a trip down to the spaceport and see if anyone would be willing to give her a ride if she greased their palms a little.

Thank goodness she had made a decent living as a bounty hunter, or else she probably would have been caught a long time ago on account of lack of funds. 

════════════════

It was late when Aspen heard the faint rustling outside. She couldn't be sure what time it was, exactly, but it was completely dark outside and the usual noise of the inhabitants of Mos Eisley had ceased an hour or two before, meaning that anyone wandering around outside was most likely up to no good. 

Perking at the sound of what could only be described as heavy footsteps in the sand, which was a sound she had come to know like the back of her hand, Aspen tightened her grip around the blade in her palm and slowly stood. The thing she disliked the most about being a fugitive—and there were quite a few horrendous aspects to choose from—was the fact that using her blaster in most situations was a sure-fire way to draw unwanted attention to herself. She'd become quite good with melee weapons, which was never a wasted skill, but she definitely missed the days of pulling out a blaster and ending a confrontation with a single pull of the trigger.

Her back pressed firmly against the wall, Aspen pulled back the curtain once more and peered out into the darkness. She wasn't able to see anything out of the ordinary, but she had come to learn that that didn't necessarily mean that all was well and good. She knew what she had heard, and it was more than enough to keep her on her toes.

Her blade at the ready, she waited and waited and waited. Nothing happened, and for a split second, she did begin to believe that her paranoid ears had been playing tricks on her. But then, just as she was about to let her guard down enough to return to her cot, she heard the noise again: two heavy footsteps trudging through the uneven sand. This was the only time Aspen felt anything other than disdain for the horrid, grainy substance.

Aspen peeked outside again. Nothing. Shoulders slumping in disappointment, she found herself dumbfounded at the situation she had found herself in. Based on her earlier assessment, she had pegged her hunter as someone who had been around the block a couple of times, but now, with all of this uncertainty outside, whoever was lurking in the shadows was seeming more and more like a scared first-timer than anything. In her experience, a professional would have burst into the room by now, having learned the layout from earlier, and tried to get the job over and done with.

Nothing was quite adding up the way Aspen would have liked it to.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Aspen grew tired of expecting her pursuer to make the first move and made a rather smug and outlandishly stupid split-second decision; a decision that would cost her more than she could possibly imagine. 

Unlocking the back door and throwing it open, Aspen squinted into the darkness outside. "Come on," she taunted. "I know you're out there. Let's just get this over with."

There was no reply. No voice, no footsteps, not even a change in the pitch of the low-whistling wind. It was then that Aspen truly started to believe that she was going crazy.

Taking one cautious step out of the building and into the sand, Aspen felt for the blaster on her hip just in case while she held the blade firmly in her dominant hand. Slowly, step by step, she ventured outside, eyes peeled and head on a swivel.

"Hello?" she whispered.

Just as she was about to turn around and head back inside, Aspen's feet swept out from underneath her and she let out a yelp. Before she knew what was happening, she was hanging upside down from her feet by a simple snare trap hidden in the sand. Blood quickly rushing to her head, Aspen followed the rope up to where it was suspended over an old, rusted sign hanging from the side of the building.

Closing her eyes in disbelief, Aspen let her arms drop down above her head, humiliated and ashamed that she let herself be caught like a wild animal. When she opened her eyes again, she came face to face with her captor; or more accurately, face to helmet.

"Former bounty hunter and you fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book." The masked man held up the red, blinking fob and shook it back and forth tauntingly, making sure Aspen knew, without a doubt, that he was there for her. "I'm honestly surprised this worked."

Unasmusement plastered on her face, Aspen sighed. "If I'm being frank, this isn't one of my proudest moments."

"I bet."

The man's voice was deep and modulated from behind the helmet, but it was in that moment that Aspen got a good—and slightly skewed due to hanging upside-down—look at the hunter who had managed to outsmart her with one of the dumbest plays known to man. Upon further inspection, it wasn't just his face that was shielded by shiny metal, it was his entire body. 

That was when it dawned on Aspen. That wasn't just any metal, it was pure beskar, which meant that her masked captor wasn't just any masked captor, he was a bonafide Mandalorian. 

Aspen supposed that if she were going to lose her ongoing fight to anyone, a Mandalorian wasn't a bad opponent to lose to; despite the fact that there hadn't been any actual fighting . . . _yet_. Even though things weren't looking good for her, she still insisted on making this Mandalorian work for his quarry.

"Well, as much as I'd love to hang around and chat . . . I'm afraid I've got somewhere to be." Aspen thrust her body upward with every bit of core strength she possessed and sliced the rope with her knife.

As soon as the blade cut through the strands of twine, Aspen's body dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. When sand billowed up into the air upon her body's impact, causing a cloud of haze, Aspen took the opportunity to roll away and regain her bearings.

By then, the Mandalorian had taken up arms. Clearly, he wasn't going to give up so easily; not that Aspen ever expected him to. If anything, she was sure this was going to be one of the hardest battles of her life.

Trying her best not to breathe in the dust and really wishing that she too had a helmet to protect her orifices, Aspen tucked her blade away, knowing that it was no match against beskar armour, and opted for her blaster instead. In this situation, she didn't care if she drew the attention of the whole damn city. She wasn't hiding anymore. The person who had been looking for her had found her. Now the only thing on her mind was survival and, if possible, escape.

"Don't make this any harder than it needs to be." The Mandalorian stalked closer as the dust settled. "I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold."

"Oh, but making things harder than they need to be is my specialty," Aspen smirked. With that, she began firing her blaster, knowing fully well that she was unlikely to penetrate the beskar, but hoping that she could fight him off just long enough to make a run for it. 

Apparently, however, the Mandalorian had more than just one trick up his sleeve. With a flick of his wrist, a grappling line shot out of his armour and secured itself around Aspen's wrist. When the Mandalorian grabbed the line and yanked hard, Aspen's arm jerked to the side and her blaster flew out of her grasp. 

"Dank Farrik," Aspen muttered under her breath, but she didn't let the setback throw off her focus. Swinging her leg up, she hooked the grappling line with her ankle before stepping down hard, pulling the Mandalorian toward her and throwing him slightly off balance. As he stumbled forward, she kneed him firmly in the neck, just below where the beskar helmet offered any protection. 

A choking, gasping sound emitted from the helmet and Aspen took that time to free her wrist from the grappling line. As soon as she had dropped the line into the sand, the Mandalorian retracted it back into his armour before coming at her with swinging fists. 

Despite the earlier threat of bringing her in warm _or_ cold, Aspen was starting to suspect that there were strict orders to keep her alive based on the blatant lack of use of the many deadly weapons strapped to the Mandalorian's person. 

Lifting her arms in front of her face to shield from the punches, Aspen took a step back with every swing toward her head, her feet struggling to get a good grip in the sand. When he wound up for a particularly hardy punch with a good amount of weight behind it, Aspen ducked out of the way before popping up just beside him. Letting her body act without thinking too much, she kicked at the back of his knee, dropping him. 

Once his head was level with her chest, she jumped up, wrapped her thighs around his neck and went limp, her dead weight dragging him and herself down onto the ground. While his gloved hands clawed at her shins and thighs, she squeezed as hard as she could, knowing there was no way she could choke him out with the helmet but hoping she could hold him in place long enough to figure out what to do next. 

Aspen frantically searched her mind for anything she knew about Mandalorians that might serve as a weakness but considering she had never properly met one before and most of the stories were predominately bullshit, the only thing she could remember was that they were forbidden from showing their faces. As much as Aspen hated to have to stoop so low, her life was more or less on the line and she was quickly running out of options. If anything, Aspen was hoping it might just throw him off of his game enough for her to make her escape.

Reaching down, Aspen hooked her fingers underneath the helmet and began to pull up. As soon as she did this, a switch flipped inside of the Mandalorian. For lack of a better descriptor, he went feral.

Snatching her wrists in his own hands, he yanked her down over the top of himself before catching her in the stomach with his boots and kicking her into the air and away from himself. A bone-chilling growl escaped him as he did this, and as Aspen hit the sand hard, the wind completely knocked out of her, the growl echoed in her ears.

Maybe that hadn't been the smartest idea; but then again, her brain didn't seem to be firing on all cylinders that evening.

Without really meaning to, Aspen had made the confrontation personal, and now the Mandalorian had a personal gain in bringing her down. It wasn't simply a job anymore; she had tried to unmask him to a world that was forbidden from laying eyes upon his face, and that simply wouldn't stand.

Aspen contemplated apologizing for her rash action, but before she could fully make up her mind, he was swinging at her again, this time with a new and startling thunderous energy. Every time she blocked a punch and his fist collided with her forearm, she could feel the bruises forming. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from shouting in pain.

Knowing that she was unlikely to emerge victorious if the battle continued on much longer, Aspen settled on a hail mary move and prayed that it would work. Dropping down as the Mandalorian threw yet another punch that was sure to break a few bones if it had made contact with her face, she swung her leg out and swept his feet out from underneath himself.

As soon as he fell back, she grabbed for the blade on her belt and lunged for the unprotected area on his side. Plunging the blade into the flesh that wasn't covered by beskar, she immediately scrambled back to her feet and took off running without a moment of hesitation.

The last thing Aspen heard before disappearing around the corner and into the darkness was the Mandalorian's pained groaning. She couldn't deny the fact that she felt slightly guilty for playing so dirty when he had refused to use weapons, but she also knew that if he hadn't been instructed to bring her in alive, he probably would have killed her on sight. 

It was the nature of being a bounty hunter, and they both knew that just as well as the other.

Once she was confident she had run far enough, Aspen ducked behind a large building that cast quite a large shadow and took a moment to catch her breath. Doubled over and gasping for air, she twitched at every little sound, worried that the Mandalorian hadn't given up on her just yet and was now even more determined to catch her. She wouldn't even be surprised if he had completely disregarded keeping her alive and just shot her point-blank in the head the next time he saw her.

Thankfully, however, it seemed as though Aspen had successfully escaped, and only a little worse for wear than she had started the evening as; something she was sure the Mandalorian couldn't say about himself, what with his brand new stab wound, courtesy of herself.

For the remainder of the night, Aspen stayed tucked behind that very building with nothing but her wits. She had lost both her blaster and her knife in the confrontation and had also been forced to leave behind all of her belongings, including any and all credits she had been hoping to use to get off of the damn planet.

Her only options were to risk it and return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, to gather her things up—which would be mindbogglingly foolish—or hope that her sweet-talking skills were enough to get her aboard a ship heading anywhere else in the galaxy without the ability to actually pay for transportation.

As soon as the sun began to peek over the horizon, Aspen made her way through the city as quickly as she could with her head down and headed straight to the spaceport, not even bothering with her usual tactics of making wrong turns to lose anyone who might be tailing her.

With little time to spare, she began scouting the various ships and their pilots and tried to pick out who was leaving from who was arriving and who might be amenable to a down on her luck, completely broke criminal tagging along for a ride. 

The first few pilots that Aspen asked immediately lost interest and turned her down when she told them that she wouldn't be able to pay. She tried to persuade one or two with her sub-par piloting and mechanic skills that she had picked up throughout her life, but it quickly became apparent that she was going to have a hard time getting anywhere without any credits. 

It was times like this at Aspen really wished she owned her own ship. Well, she _had_ owned her own ship once upon a time, but after a series of unfortunate events, she had lost it along with any relative respect she had once held in the Bounty Hunter's Guild. Her life had really gone completely tits up in a matter of days. 

Once a respected and feared bounty hunter with a shiny ship of her own and her choice of any quarry she wanted in the entire galaxy, Aspen could barely recognize the woman she was now; the woman who was standing outside of the Mos Eisley spaceport, practically begging strangers for a ride so that the Mandalorian currently hunting her wouldn't find her and rip her guts out through her throat. 

Kicking at the sand with her boot, Aspen exhaled, defeated. She truly had no idea what to do next. If things didn't start looking up soon, she would probably have to return to the room she had been renting and run the risk of running into her pursuer once more; and there was no guarantee she could survive another run-in with him.

"Heard you're looking for a ride out of this wretched city." A rather unassuming looking man approached Aspen out of nowhere. 

Aspen's spirits instantly lifted. "I am. Preferable off of this wretched planet as a whole, but anywhere that isn't here is fine by me." She nodded. "Although, I should tell you right off of the bat that I can't pay. I haven't got any credits."

The man waved her off as if money was something he wasn't worried about; which was a rare find, especially on Tatooine. "No bother. If you can help out a little on the journey, that'll be more than enough," he said.

Aspen nodded once more, this time a little too enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, whatever you need help with," she told him before turning to the many docking ports. "Which one is yours?"

"That one." The man waved his arm in the general direction of the far docking stations, where a few different ships were sitting. It was hard to tell which one he was pointing at, specifically, but then again, it didn't really matter. As long as it flew, it would be perfect. 

"Okay." Aspen smiled, trying her best to seem nice and grateful and not stressed and paranoid, which she currently was. "Thank you. This may seem a little dramatic, but you are actually saving my life right now."

The man chuckled lightly. "Yeah, well, I can tell a soul in need when I see one. As soon as I settle what I owe to the port authorities, we'll be good to go."

"Sounds good." Aspen folded her arms. "I'll wait here."

With that, the man turned and disappeared into the main hub of the spaceport where he could pay what he owed for docking his ship. As the minutes passed, Aspen drew in a few deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. In her head, she told herself over and over that everything was going to be okay now. She was going to catch a ride to wherever—she had completely forgotten to ask where the kind stranger was headed—and start over again. Do some odd jobs, make some cash, and lay low. 

When the man finally returned, he seemed a little more on-edge than he had been when he had left. His eyes shifted nervously back and forth and his hands were fidgeting, almost like he suddenly didn't know what to do with them.

"So, where are we headed?" Aspen asked, choosing to ignore his odd change in demeanour.

The man's friendly smile slowly faded. "Nowhere," he answered matter-of-factly. "Sorry about this, but I've got a family to feed."

Aspen furrowed her brows, but before she had the chance to ask what the hell he was talking about, something hard cracked her in the head and she dropped to the ground in an instant. The last thing she saw before her vision went black was the goddamn Mandalorian handing over payment to the man, no doubt for his excellent service in helping him catch his quarry.

Well, at least one way or another, Aspen would be getting off of this sandy hell planet. 


	2. Criminal, Thief, Kidnapper

Eyes fluttering open and closed as she slowly regained consciousness, Aspen's face twitched as the blinding pain in her head began to radiate throughout her entire skull. It felt like she had gotten her head squished between a sliding mechanical door and a steel wall and held there in place for hours.

When she realized that opening her eyes and letting light into her perception only made the pain worse, she opted for squinting, so that she could just make out her surroundings without having to actually _see_ very much. From what she could tell by the dimly lit room and subtly glowing control buttons, she was aboard a ship and inside the cockpit. 

As an involuntary groan slipped past her lips, Aspen tried to stand up but quickly realized that she was bound to the copilot chair by what looked like thick cargo straps. Her wrists were tied around the back of the chair and her ankles were tied together, restricting her movement aside from her head and neck. 

"What the . . . ?" she muttered to herself as the memory of what had happened started coming back in bits and pieces. Mostly, she remembered fighting, running, and collapsing to the ground. More specifically, her unceremonious defeat replayed over and over again. Aspen had always prided herself on her ability to think on her feet and escape sticky situations and yet, somehow, her fall from grace had been orchestrated more or less by some random Mos Eisley pilot looking to make a few quick credits.

Oh, how the tables were turning against her favour; seemingly all at once.

Taking the opportunity to inspect more of the ship she was currently being held captive in, Aspen looked around the small but admittedly cozy cockpit. The control board was illuminated by the many different colours of the various buttons and display screens. Some buttons blinked, others remained glowing, and others were completely unlit, practically blending into the black panelling of the board behind them. 

Since the ship was in hyperspace, the most transfixing part of the entire cockpit was the way that space shot past on the other side of the windows, strands of light appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. Aspen's favourite part of travelling in hyperspace was the all-consuming silence of it; but this time, the silence was anything but comforting. 

In the pilot's seat, the Mandalorian was sitting completely still. The only part of him that Aspen could see was the back of his helmet and still, she felt unnerved. The faint memory of him handing the Mos Eisley pilot payment for assisting in her capture flashed through her mind and she gritted her teeth. _Blasted Mandalorian._

By then, Aspen was able to fully open her eyes without it causing her any more pain than she was already in; and with her pain gone, so was her content state of quiet contemplation.

"Is there a reason I'm hog-tied to this chair and not frozen in carbonite?" she asked, fighting against the cargo straps for no other reason but to display defiance. 

The Mandalorian didn't answer, which wasn't necessarily surprising. Mandalorians weren't exactly known for their chatty personalities, but since the cockpit was dead silent and Aspen was sure he had heard her, it pissed her off nonetheless.

"Hey, Mando!" She used the common nickname for Mandalorians. When that didn't work, she tried a different approach. "I'm talking to you, Helmet-Head! If you're gonna make the conscious decision not to freeze me and not to tape my mouth shut or something, you're gonna answer my questions!"

Somehow, that worked. Without any indication of annoyance or anger—courtesy of the shiny beskar helmet that shielded any display of emotion at all—the Mandalorian turned in his chair to face Aspen and stared back at her, his eyes no doubt glaring from behind the black visor. 

"Good." Aspen tried not to display her shock at actually gaining his attention. "Now, what the hell is going on? I've done my fair share of bounties to know that something's off here."

"You're not a normal quarry," he answered plainly, his voice still as deep and modulated as Aspen remembered from their initial meeting. "Greef Karga wants you personally. No carbonite."

Realization struck Aspen like a wall of bricks. "I see." She relaxed into the chair and exhaled slowly. "I knew he'd probably want retribution, but I doubted he would seek it out personally." She paused for a moment, waiting to see if Mando would show any sign of knowing what she was referring to. He didn't. "Did he tell you what I did to deserve all this attention?"

The helmet shook back and forth faintly. "No. No questions asked. Guild rules. You should know that."

"Yeah, I know the rules." She huffed. "Doesn't mean I follow every single one of them."

"Maybe that explains why you're hog-tied to my chair then, doesn't it?"

Aspen cracked a slightly-amused smirk at that. "Yeah, maybe . . ." Her eyes fell and landed on Mando's side, where the tear in his black undershirt left a visual reminder of the stab wound she had left him with. When he spun his chair back around to face the control panel again, she watched as the material moved and displayed the torn skin underneath. Aspen had thought she had tried her best not to injure him too much—only enough for her to escape—but now that she was actually looking at it, she realized she might have put a little more force into the attack than she had initially intended. Thankfully, he seemed perfectly fine regardless.

For the remainder of the journey, Aspen decided to stay silent. Sure, she had a bunch of things she would have liked to ask, but in the grand scheme of things, none of it mattered. Despite anything she said, the Mandalorian was still going to take her to Nevarro, hand her over to Greef Karga, collect the price on her head, and move on with his life. 

At least, that's what Aspen _thought_ was going to happen; but when the ship dropped out of hyperspace and she caught a glimpse of the planet they were heading to, she realized that things were way more unusual than she had originally thought. 

"That's not Nevarro," she said, wishing she could lean forward to get a better look. She wasn't sure which planet, exactly, they were approaching, but she did know that whatever it was, it wasn't Nevarro. She had made the trip to and from that planet too many times to count and knew what it looked like from every possible angle.

"We're not going to Nevarro," Mando replied.

Aspen's eyes narrowed in confusion. "You're bringing me to Greef Karga but we're not going to Nevarro? Yeah, no, that makes sense . . ."

"I never said I was the one taking you to Karga."

Aspen didn't even know how to respond to that. At this point, she just had to accept the fact that this particular bounty hunter did things drastically different than any other she had ever met before and that she simply had no idea what was going on.

As the ship drew closer and closer to the planet and eventually entered the atmosphere, Aspen finally recognized the characteristic mountains and green landscape as belonging to Alderaan. Every second that passed, things got more and more perplexing. Aspen hadn't been to Alderaan very many times, and for good reason; it wasn't a hub for bounty hunters in any sense of the word. 

While Mando piloted over mountains and tree-filled fields to find somewhere to land, Aspen slowly began to wonder if he was just going to take her out into the middle of nowhere and shoot her dead. Bounty be damned, she had stabbed him and tried to remove his helmet and she would pay for that with her life. 

Swallowing hard, Aspen fought against the straps once more, this time not just for show. With the threat of death looming over her head, she was suddenly beginning to panic. As much as she tried to put on a stoic expression in the face of danger, she definitely didn't want to die. Not yet, at least.

When the ship touched down on Alderaan's surface and Mando powered off the ship, Aspen wished more than anything that she had simply stayed inside her room back on Tatooine instead of venturing outside in the middle of the night. She had made a lot of stupid decisions in her life, but right then, that one took the cake. 

Turning in his chair once more, Mando pulled a vibroblade out of one of the many weapon holsters strapped to his person and stood before Aspen. Still not completely unconvinced that he wasn't about to kill her, she forced her eyes shut tight and tensed as he approached.

The sound of the blade cutting through the cargo straps was enough to make her jump a little, but as she felt the rope around her ankles fall away, she opened her eyes again and was relieved to see he was simply cutting her free. With only her wrists tied behind her back now, he tucked the blade away again, grabbed her hard by her jacket, and pulled her up so she was standing directly before him.

Eyes wide, Aspen stared up at the man who towered over her slightly; the fact that he was faceless and covered in beskar armour doing nothing for the immense intimidation she was feeling.

"Come on." He stepped around her effortlessly and pressed a button, opening the sliding cockpit doors. "Let's get this over with."

With her wrists turning raw from the abrasive rope rubbing against her skin, Aspen did as the Mandalorian said and followed him out of the cockpit, down a ladder—which was nearly impossible with her hands tied and had her wondering how he had gotten her unconscious body into the cockpit in the first place—, out of the ship, and into the Alderaan wilderness.

Walking slower than normal due to the uneven terrain and her altered balance from bound arms, Aspen's gaze never left the ground in front of her feet, and even then she tripped quite a bit over rocks and protruding tree roots.

"I know that begging for my life probably won't get me anywhere if you're already dead set on killing me, but I'd be a fool if I didn't at least try." Aspen glanced back over her shoulder at Mando, who was trailing a few feet behind her to make sure she didn't try to make an escape.

"I'm not going to kill you," he said, helmet moving back and forth as he scanned their surroundings.

Aspen nodded. "Well, forgive me if I don't necessarily believe you. Either way, for whatever it's worth, I promise I'm worth more alive than I am dead."

"I'm not going to kill you," he repeated.

Aspen didn't respond. Instead, she turned when Mando told her to turn and tried to memorize the path they were taking on the off chance that she managed to evade capture in the end and found herself backtracking through the wilderness. The most obvious landmark she noticed was a small stream that ran parallel to them for a few minutes, but other than that, everything else was rather unassuming.

As minutes passed and the foliage got thicker and the sunlight got dimmer due to the thick canopy of trees above them, the duo eventually came upon a small clearing where a lone man was standing, arms crossed and obviously awaiting their arrival.

Once the man spotted Aspen and the Mandalorian approaching, he uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to meet them halfway. There was a large scar on his right cheek and his dark hair was dirty and mussed—a true bounty hunter if ever Aspen had seen one. His appearance screamed 'I've been hunting a quarry for the past week and I've completely neglected to take care of myself in the meantime.' 

"Mando." The man nodded in the Mandalorian's direction. "This her?"

"This is her," Mando confirmed. As the man stepped toward Aspen, Mando grabbed her by her bound hands and yanked her back a step or two, catching her off guard. "You know the deal. Payment first, then the woman."

The man shook his head and scoffed. "Sorry, but that's not how it's gonna work. Karga won't pay up until he actually has eyes on her."

"We agreed on splitting the credits equally if I brought her to you. How am I supposed to know that you'll hold up your end of the bargain?"

"You won't. Guess you'll just have to trust me." The man shrugged and flashed a sickening, yellow-toothed grin. "Unless, of course, I just take you both in. Why would I settle for half of her price on her head when I could collect the full price for you both?"

Aspen furrowed a brow. Full price for both of them? Did the Mandalorian have a bounty on his head as well? Was that why he couldn't take her to Karga himself? If so, that made a lot of sense. If not, it was just more unanswered questions.

"That would be a mistake." Mando stepped so he was in front of Aspen now. "Take the agreement we originally made or the deal's off. You won't find better payment out there."

"Well, that's all a matter of opinion, isn't it? 'Cuz from where I'm standing, I see a jackpot right in front of me, ripe for the picking."

"Pick a fight and you won't be the one walking away from it." Mando's gloved hand ghosted over his blaster, his fingers stretching and flexing through the leather. "I promise you that."

Slowly, Aspen began to back away. One step at a time, she removed herself from the situation, hoping to avoid the incoming duel that was most likely about to take place. If there was one thing she knew about bounty hunters, it's that they were a greedy and cocky bunch; and if there was an opportunity for a bigger reward, no matter the risk, they would usually try and take it. 

Aspen should know that, after all; that very flaw in her personality was what landed her a price on her own head.

Silence filled the clearing in the woods. Then, without warning, the man drew his blaster and fired at Mando. The blast ricocheted off of the beskar and bounced back and Mando drew his own blaster and fired at the man, grazing him on the side of his leg.

Sensing that this was her golden opportunity to make a run for it, Aspen turned on her heel and sprinted out of the clearing back the way she and Mando had come. 

"No!" she heard Mando shout after her, followed by a blaster shot whizzing past her head. 

Letting out a yelp, Aspen jumped to the side but didn't stop running. When the sounds of blaster shots continued, growing fainter in the distance the farther she ran, she assumed that neither one of the men had been able to duck out of the firefight and chase after her.

Breathing hard, heart pounding against her chest like a drum, Aspen prayed she was heading in the right direction and forced herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. When she began to hear the faint sound of running water, she felt a sense of hope burst through her entire body. As soon as she located the stream and knew she was heading back toward the Mandalorian's ship, she slowed a little and took a moment to inspect the rocks lining the stream.

Spotting a relatively sharp rock, Aspen sprinted toward it and hoped that the edge was enough to cut through the ropes on her wrists. While trying to get into position, Aspen slipped a few times and ended up sitting in the stream, but she didn't have time to worry about getting wet. With the sharp edge of the rock against the rope behind her back, she worked her arms up and down rapidly, sawing through the rope and completely ignoring the pain whenever she grated her skin against the stone.

After a minute or so of frantic sawing, the remaining threads on the rope snapped at Aspen's force and the restraints fell into the water. Her hands now free and bleeding from the sharp rock, she scrambled back to her feet and resumed her mad dash back to the ship.

With squelching boots and dripping wet pants, Aspen let out a cheer of victory when she spotted the larger clearing in the distance and, for the first time, got a proper look at the Mandalorian's ship. From the outside, it looked like a rusty pile of spare parts, but it flew—this she knew for a fact—and that was all she needed it to do. 

Unsure how far behind her the Mandalorian was, because he was most definitely coming after her once he had dealt with the rogue bounty hunter, she wasted no time in boarding the ship and closing the hatch. 

Hands still bleeding and leaving blood smears on whatever she touched, Aspen climbed the ladder into the cockpit, sat down in the pilot's chair, and stared helplessly at the control panel. Aspen could fly a ship as well as any casual pilot would need to be able to, but every ship worked a little differently, and right then, she didn't have the time to figure out the controls.

Thinking back to when the Mandalorian had landed the ship and powered it down, Aspen went out on a limb and tried to remember the sequence he had performed and attempted to replicate it, but in reverse. With a few button presses and switch flips, the engine began to rumble to life, which meant she was doing something right.

As soon as the display screens gave off the readings that Aspen associated with a ship that was ready for takeoff, she turned to the large lever to her right and wrapped her bloodied hand around it. Just then, through the window, Aspen caught a glimpse of the Mandalorian emerging from the trees. Despite the fact that his emotions were completely hidden, there was something about his body language that exuded pure, unadulterated rage.

Realizing that this poor guy wasn't having a great few days and that most of that was thanks to hers truly, Aspen gave a sheepish wave through the window before pulling the lever. As the ship began to lift off from the ground, she sat back in the pilot's seat and took a moment to catch her breath.

Hopefully, he would at least understand why she was doing what she was doing. She couldn't really hope for anything but that; that and that he would be able to get by without his ship and what was probably everything he owned.

Soon enough, the ship was exiting the planet's atmosphere and Aspen was plugging in the coordinates to Tatooine. With a ship in her possession and knowing for a fact that she wouldn't be followed anytime soon, Aspen hoped she could return to the room she had been renting and collect her belongings and remaining credits before figuring out where to lay low next.

As soon as the ship jumped into hyperspace, Aspen stood from the pilot's chair and stared down at the control panel and the many blood-smeared buttons and switches. It was a grim sight. Thankfully, by then, the actual bleeding on her hand had slowed so she exited the cockpit, located the fresher, and cleaned her wounds with running water. 

With the water running off of Aspen's hands turning faint red, she winced a little as all the aches and pains in her body came back. Her hands stung under the water, her head was still throbbing something fierce, and her entire body as a whole ached from months of sleeping on uncomfortable cots and fighting off anyone and everyone who came after her.

The only thing currently getting her through the remainder of the day was the knowledge that she would be able to get an actual good night's sleep that evening without having to keep one eye open and a knife under her pillow. 

In the mirror, Aspen wiped away the accumulated dirt from her face and grimaced at the bruises, small cuts, and alarming bags under her eyes. Upon first glance, it was hard to tell that she had won any fight she had ever been in; she looked like a real-life punching bag.

After cleaning her wounds and wiping away as much dirt as possible without taking an actual shower, Aspen searched the ship for a medpac, which she located just sitting strewn atop a counter surface adjacent to the fresher. The majority of the ship was kept in pretty good order, but there were a few things just lying around.

Midway through wrapping her hands with bandages, Aspen heard an unusual sound that she was unable to place. Pausing her work, she searched the ship for the cause of the noise, concerned that something had broken, but was unable to place it.

Then, she heard it again and was able to zero in on the area it was coming from. Noticing a button, she pressed it and a door hidden in the wall slide open and a secluded sleeping quarter was revealed. When Aspen saw what was waiting for her inside the sleeping quarter, however, she took a step back in surprise.

Sitting on the small, cramped bed, a small green alien was staring up at her with large, beady black eyes. Its green skin was covered in peach fuzz, its ears were huge and pointed, and it was wearing a tan coloured tunic. With grubby little three-fingered hands, the alien that could only be described as a child reached up at Aspen and tried to grab for her. 

Then, it let out a series of adorable coos and Aspen's heart swelled and her stomach began to twist; not only because of the cuteness of this infant but because the realization that she had just kidnapped it dawned on her.

Not only had she stolen the Mandalorian's ship . . . but she had unknowingly taken his child as well. 


	3. My Sweet Surrender

Pacing back and forth, Aspen tried her best to stay focused on the dilemma at hand, but the little green infant babbling at her was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate. In all fairness, the little green infant _was_ the dilemma at hand, but she was currently struggling between a moral decision and felt like her attention was being pulled at from every angle possible.

"I don't know what you want from me." Aspen turned to the little guy, not even sure if it was able to understand what she was saying or not. 

Staring up at her with its huge pools of blackness for eyes, the child cooed softly while grabbing for her with its chubby fingers. The innocence of it was nearly enough to make Aspen's heart melt; how could it trust her this much after just meeting her? Didn't it know that she was a stranger? That exact nature of blind trust was probably the very reason why the Mandalorian had been looking after it. 

And just like that, Aspen started spiralling again. Not only was she a wanted criminal, but now she was also a kidnapper. She had stolen an actual child. 

How had things gotten this messed up?

Sitting down on a nearby crate, Aspen ran her fingers through her hair and exhaled slowly. This was a critical moment in her life and she needed to make this decision carefully. As much as she knew that she needed to return to her anonymous life of lying low as soon as possible, she was also pretty sure that she would be unable to live with herself if she actually went through with knowingly kidnapping an adorable alien child.

She contemplated dropping the child off somewhere on the way back to Tatooine, but what if she left it on the wrong doorstep? How was she supposed to know who was capable of taking care of a child and who wasn't? Where did one even take a homeless, parentless kid in the galaxy? That type of knowledge wasn't exactly Aspen's forte. 

The only person Aspen knew for sure that would be capable of taking care of the little guy was back on Alderaan. The Mandalorian had managed to keep it alive thus far, so he must have been doing somewhat of a decent job; even if a Mandalorian and an alien infant were an odd duo that made one wonder about the circumstances that needed to take place for a partnership like that to form. 

There was only one problem with that course of action. In the past 48 hours, Aspen had tried to unmask said Mandalorian, stabbed him, stolen his ship, and kidnapped his child. If she returned to the planet, even under the good-intentioned pretenses of returning the child, he was sure to murder her on the spot. If someone did all that to her, she would have no problem blasting a hole between their eyes and calling it a day.

Lifting her head to look at the child, Aspen sighed. "Do you think your dad would be understanding about all this?" she asked, knowing she wouldn't get any sort of helpful answer—or any answer at all, more accurately. Either way, having someone to talk to about her current predicament was kind of nice, even if they just gazed back at her with a blank expression as she did so.

Her mind racing a million miles a minute, unanswered questions bouncing back and forth and possible outcomes playing out in flashes before her, Aspen finally shook her head free of the all-consuming thoughts and made her decision. 

This needed to end. Everything needed to end.

Marching back toward the ladder, Aspen climbed up into the cockpit, turned the ship around, and reprogrammed the coordinates of Alderaan into the control board. 

Even if Aspen could find somewhere safe to drop the child off, she realized in that moment that she didn't want to return to the life she had been living; always on the run, her head on a swivel, always looking over her shoulder. She couldn't do it anymore. It was physically and mentally exhausting and Aspen knew the Bounty Hunter's Guild and Greef Karga too well to actually expect them to ever give up; and if she was being honest with herself, she didn't know how much fight she had left in her. 

Eventually, one way or the other, she was going to get caught. Instead, she decided to go out on her own terms. 

So, she would return to Alderaan, give the Mandalorian back his ship and his child, pray he didn't kill her on sight, and vow to turn herself in. If he couldn't take her to Nevarro himself, she would find a way there on her own.

This needed to end. 

Once the ship had jumped back into hyperspace in the direction of the planet she had just come from, Aspen returned to the hidden sleeping quarter where she had found the child and lifted the little one into her arms. Almost instantly, it stopped making sounds and grabbing at her and rested its head on her shoulder. Seconds later, its eyes closed and its breathing slowed into a deep and even rhythm.

All at once, Aspen understood how the Mandalorian had found himself taking care of the little one. It was simply too adorable to resist, even for a hardened bounty hunter. 

Carefully lowering herself onto the ground, Aspen cradled the child in her arms, rested her head against the metal wall, and allowed herself to enjoy a few hours of uninterrupted sleep before she surrendered and turned her life over to a guy who was probably, by that point, hell-bent on wrapping his hands around her throat and squeezing the life out of her very being.

════════════════

When the navigation system in the ship let out a series of beeps, alerting Aspen to the fact that they were approaching Alderaan, her head snapped forward and her eyes shot open. Thankfully, she hadn't startled enough to wake the child, so before returning to the cockpit, she placed it carefully onto the cot she had originally found it in. 

Plopping down into the pilot's chair, Aspen wiped the sleep from her eyes and let out a yawn. In the near distance, Alderaan loomed in shadows, telling her that the side of the planet she was heading to was experiencing night. 

With the basic piloting skills she possessed, she took over control of the ship and followed the coordinates to the exact place she had stolen the ship from. She honestly didn't expect the Mandalorian to still be hanging around, but she figured it was the best place to start from.

Unlike during the day, the planet seemed a lot more ominous and a lot less whimsical during the night. The mountains stood like tall, dark guardians, waiting for intruders to accidentally fly into them and take themselves out. The forests of luscious trees below looked more like seas of pitch-black now, sending a shiver up Aspen's spine when she looked down at them. 

Unable to distinguish any landmarks due to the drastic change in lighting, Aspen hoped she was flying over the same mountains and fields as before. The only thing that seemed familiar was the clearing she was supposed to be landing in, and Aspen was surprised to see a small, barely noticeable orange glow in said clearing. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be a little bonfire. Maybe the Mandalorian would be easier to locate than she had originally thought.

Suddenly, Aspen's fight or flight response began to kick in. Knowing that the masked man was more than likely to storm her as soon as she touched down, she began questioning her sanity. Had she made the right decision? Before she had a chance to change her mind, however, the ship touched down in the grass and there was no turning back.

Through the windshield, Aspen watched as a beskar-clad figure rose from behind the flames. It was now or never.

Powering down the ship, Aspen grabbed the child on her way out—who was still half asleep—, opened the hatch, and resigned herself to her fate.

With the child in one hand, perched upon her hip, Aspen held the other hand in the air in surrender as she stepped into the dusky field. As expected, the Mandalorian immediately pulled his blaster on her.

"I'm turning myself in," she said. "I don't want to run anymore."

The Mandalorian seemed like he couldn't care less about her surrender. "Put him down," he demanded, gesturing to the infant with his weapon. "If you hurt a hair on his head, I'll shoot you where you stand."

"I'm a lot of things, but a child-murderer isn't one of them." Aspen immediately complied and set the child down by her feet.

Unsure about what was happening, the child blinked up at Aspen in confusion a few times. When he turned around and saw the Mandalorian, however, his face lit up and his confusion was replaced with joy. As fast as his little legs could take him, he waddled over to his masked protector and grabbed hold of his leg.

As the Mandalorian bent down to pick the child up—who he had referred to as a "him"—Aspen began to disarm herself. When she reached for her own blaster, however, the Mandalorian straightened up like a board, his weapon aimed directly at her head.

"Easy," she whispered, voice slow and calm. "I'm just dropping my weapons . . . a show of good faith and all considering you probably want to string me up and leave me for dead."

With Mando's helmet glued to her like a hawk, she turned on her blaster's safety before tossing it into the grass at his feet. She then did the same with her knives and remaining weapons before lifting her shirt and spinning slowly in place to prove she wasn't concealing anything else.

"You're really turning yourself in?" he eventually asked, only then believing her as he collected her weapons. "Why?"

"Like I said . . . I don't want to run anymore," she answered. "From what I've gathered, however, you can't exactly take me to Nevarro yourself, can you?"

Lowering his blaster, Mando shook his head. "No. I can't."

"I see." Aspen nodded before gesturing to the child. "I'm assuming it has something to do with that little guy?"

He nodded.

"Children aren't cheap. Which is why you also need the credits for my capture, am I right?" She quirked an eyebrow. "I don't know what I'm worth, exactly, but I'm sure it's a pretty decent payout."

"It is."

"So we seem to be at a crossroads here. You can't take me to Nevarro and I can't get there by myself due to lack of transport."

"It seems we are."

Aspen folded her arms across her chest and cocked a hip. "Well, what's the plan?"

The Mandalorian didn't answer right away. Then, before he could, the child in his arm began to gurgle and make noises that indicated upset crying was soon to follow. "The plan is to feed him," he said. "We camp here tonight. I'll figure something out by tomorrow morning."

Aspen opened her mouth to agree with the plan but the Mandalorian brushed past her and boarded the ship to grab some food before she could get even a single word out. Evidently, he didn't care what she thought. 

Exhaustion beginning to set in again, proving that her few short hours of rest aboard the ship hadn't been adequate enough to make up for months of horrible sleep, Aspen made her way over to the fire and situated herself a few feet away, leaning against a rather large boulder. She made sure to settle herself far enough away so as not to make it seem like she was inviting herself to his temporary encampment.

Drawing her right knee up to her chest, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes. As her breathing began to relax, she heard the soft footsteps of Mando's boots in the grass and seconds later, something fell into her lap, making her jump.

Looking down, she saw that a single apple was sitting in her lap. When she looked over her shoulder at the Mandalorian, he was perched on the other side of the fire with the child. While the little one munched away at something or another, Mando sat perfectly still, the orange and yellow glow of the flickering flames reflecting in his helmet.

He seemed much calmer now, but she supposed that made sense considering he had just been reunited with his child. She had a million questions about the little guy and how he had come to be in Mando's care, but she knew that those were not questions for her to ask; and even if she did, she doubted she would get an answer anyway. Right then, she was just lucky she was still breathing, so it was best not to push her luck.

Every few seconds, Mando would look down at the child, almost as if a nervous impulse of his was to make sure he was still there and still doing okay. The child just continued to gobble down his food, completely unaware that he had been temporarily kidnapped in the first place. To him, the galaxy was sunshine and rainbows; and now that he was back with his dad and had a full belly, things couldn't be better.

Aspen wished her life could be that simple. 

Trying not to stare too hard, Aspen found herself wondering about how the Mandalorian ate if he couldn't ever take his helmets off in front of others. Did he only eat when he was alone? How often was he able to hide away long enough to consume an entire meal? Had he ever shown his face to the kid? 

Before she could be caught gawking, Aspen turned away and sunk her teeth into the apple. Unable to pinpoint the last time she had eaten, she hummed quietly to herself at the sweetness and juiciness of the fruit. It had been a while since she had consumed something that wasn't bland, beige, and overpriced.

After taking her final bite, Aspen tossed the apple core into the grass for it to return to the dirt or feed some wildlife. Then, feeling pretty confident that Mando wasn't going to murder her in her sleep—considering it seemed as though he needed her as much as she needed him—she closed her eyes for the night and drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Aspen, however, maybe shouldn't have been so comfortable letting her guard down completely around the Mandalorian just yet.

When the sun began to rise the next morning and the warm sun rays made contact with Aspen's face, she slowly woke, feeling properly refreshed for the first time in months. As soon as she lifted her head and moved to stand, however, she immediately noticed that something wasn't right. Had her neck always been this heavy?

Hands moving to her neck, Aspen gasped when she felt a thick band of metal around her throat. "What the . . . ?" She touched it over and over again, trying to figure out what it was without being able to actually see it. "What the hell did you do to me?" She rounded on Mando, who was crouched beside the ashes of the fire from the night before, packing up his belongings. 

"Shock collar," he answered pointedly. "Can't risk you escaping again."

"Escaping?!" she blurted out. "I turned myself in! Why would I escape?"

He didn't respond that that, which only boiled Aspen's blood even further.

"This is sick!" she snapped. "I'm not some animal you can put a collar on and control. I'm a human . . . a human who did the right thing in the end! And what do I get in return? This?!"

Still nothing.

"You know what? No!" She turned on her heel and started to march in the opposite direction. "I've changed my mind. I'll get myself to Nevarro one way or another, but I'm most certainly not travelling with-"

Halfway through her heated rant, a blinding pain encapsulated Aspen's neck, radiating up into her head and down into her arms. Body freezing in place and knees buckling, Aspen let out a cry of agony, her hands scratching at the collar like a feral animal in an attempt to get it off. 

Turning on the Mandalorian, eyes narrowed and fists clenched, the sight of him standing right where she had left him, a small remote control in one hand and the child in the other, filled her with rage. That blasted helmet-wearing psychopath had actually electrocuted her, and _man_ did it hurt.

"Ow!" she deadpanned for emphasis. 

"It's supposed to hurt." He didn't seem the least bit concerned. "I can't trust you. You're a quarry, I'm a bounty hunter. It's nothing personal."

"It sure as hell feels personal!"

"I can't help how you feel," he stated before tucking the remote away and starting toward the ship. "Now, let's get going. We don't have time to waste."

Aspen stood her ground, not moving an inch. "Where are we going?"

Yet again, no reply.

Rolling her eyes, Aspen gritted her teeth before begrudgingly following suit. Had she really thought this thing through well enough? Whatever she had been expecting, this certainly wasn't it . . . but unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Not only was the collar uncomfortable, heavy, and degrading, but it made Aspen feel like a pet. The thought of belonging to someone made her feel sick to her stomach and she instantly regretting turning the ship around, giving up her weapons, and surrendering. 

Whether she liked it or not, Aspen was now being held captive by the Mandalorian and there was no telling for how long. 


End file.
